


Stay

by livixbobbiex



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 09, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, Fluff, Human Castiel, Hunter!Cas, M/M, Rimming, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 07:19:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3125846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livixbobbiex/pseuds/livixbobbiex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate season nine where Cas remains human and becomes a hunter in his own right. </p>
<p>Dean finally sees him after a year, and three months of no contact.  </p>
<p>Sex ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt I saw on facebook. 
> 
> (Plus, as you'll see, I need smut practice badly)

_B outside bunker ETA 10mins_

Dean shook his head in disbelief at the text. Cas had been human for, what, a year? It felt just a little wrong that the once formal angel had picked up human abbreviation so quickly despite having ignored it for years. Dean held a crumpled letter then, feeling the creases worsen under his fingers as he gripped. They’d kept in contact over the months, by email when it was available and handwritten letters when it wasn’t. Those had been more like Cas, formal and straight to the point. Dean didn’t like that Cas was hunting, but he could hardly stop the guy.

He’d reread Cas’ letters twenty times over, though he wouldn’t admit it aloud and barely to himself at that, but never his own. He was almost ashamed of his replies, which were always frantic and not at all thought out. Cas knew to give every detail after the first time he told Dean (a poltergeist), including every small scratch or bruise.

This letter, the one he was holding, was different from most of the rest, which were monotonous. No, this one read the words Dean hadn’t known he’d been dreading. _“As for coming back to the Bunker, I don’t know, Dean. I finally understand why you and Sam used to drive around so much, I like it like this. I think that I’m a hunter now, and you said yourself, it’s better to be alone, to not care about anyone.”_

The text had shaken him. It had been three months since that letter. Three months of silence. Sam had teased him and called him a ‘mopey teenager who just got dumped by her first boyfriend’. “ _Come back to me”_ , Dean’s previous email had read. Why would Cas suddenly return? He’d made it clear he didn’t even want to visit for a day.

Dean’s phone pinged. _Outside._ Another ping. _You had better let me in quickly unless you want attention._

Dean didn’t need to, it seemed, as the door had opened and suddenlytherewasCas, followed by Sam. “Really,” Dean overheard Sam say, “Dean didn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t exactly announce it.” God, his voice was as deep and gravely as Dean remembered. He swallowed, and then there was a clear view as the ex-angel descended the stairs. Maybe his heart even gave out for a second, because there was Castiel, _at last_ in the same goddamned room and _at last_ clearer than any picture.

But he was so, almost disturbingly different. Dean was accustomed to the guy clad in trench coat and suit, but not _this_ Cas. If Dean hadn’t known better, he would have easily accepted Cas as a hunter. The guy was dressed like he was in the freaking army, camo under a worn and peeling  jacket. Holy shit, there was a fricking gun holster hanging low on his hips like a slipping belt. He carried what could only be described as a sword, curved slightly and dripping in crimson, and a very real looking crossbow in the other. Neither seemed to be weighing him down. Dean swallowed again. His hair was longer than he remembered, and unkempt. There were hints of stubble covering his chin, accompanied by splashes of fresh blood. Damn. Dean was only partially aware that his mouth was hanging open, and he’d probably start drooling is he didn’t close it.

Cas set down his weapons before wiping the blood from his forehead. His stance was military, strong, still and always on guard. He was not the awkward, dorky angel anymore.

As if coming out of a freeze frame, Dean regained his composure, though a stray breath was caught in his throat and his heart wouldn’t stop pounding. “Whatcha doing in town, Cas?”

Cas pulled the hair back off his face _(holyshithehadbangs)._ “There was a vamp nest a few miles out, I took care of it, and decided to take you up on your offer.” His eyes were covered by freaking aviators. Aviators!

“Offer?” Sam questioned.

“Dean invited me to join your company,” he said, before fixing his gaze back on Dean, “you know I always come when you call.” Did he just... smirk?

“Sam,” Dean croaked. He tossed the keys to Baby. “Just drive. Anywhere. For a long time.” Unsurprisingly, Sam was quick to take him up on that offer.

The air changed when Sam was out the door, becoming thinner for sure. This was ridiculous, sometimes they had emailed twenty times a day and he was suddenly out of words. “Dean, not for nothing, but last person who looked at me like that? I got laid.” Cas held his smirk before breaking out into a relaxed chuckle, and suddenly they were hugging.

Dean winced when they broke apart. “Dude you don’t just _show up_ like-“ he would have finished his sentence but suddenly Cas’ mouth was on his. He’d initiated it confidently enough, but the kiss was gentle and cautious and barely even a press, except for a small almost bite as Cas pulled away. Shellshock. Then anger. “like fricking _whoever_ after months and                just-“

“I didn’t like it,” Cas interrupted.

“What?”

“Not speaking to you. I missed it. You are right, I shouldn’t have come.”

“People don’t just turn up at other people’s front doors and kiss them, Cas!” Dean flushed immediately. Total chick flick moment.

“I kissed you because I felt like it,” Cas admitted boldly. He still didn’t like this Cas. “Let me borrow your shower and I’ll leave again, just like you told me a year ago.”

Dean was obviously not thinking straight (with Cas dressed in that getup nobody could blame him), or the whiskey he’d downed was getting to him, because he yanked him by the damn jacket and smashed their mouths together hard enough for it to leave a stinging sensation. Yeah, he _definitely_ wasn’t thinking. The ex-angel was still at first, making little movement. He seemed to come alive slowly, finally winding his arms around Dean’s back and returning the kiss with vigour. Dean’s own iron grip loosened and his hands moved up to the back of his head, fisting his dark hair in an attempt to pull closer.

Cas’ tongue licked its way over and around the outline of Dean’s lips and he was gone. Gripping tighter still, they stumbled back as one, until finally Cas’ back wacked into a column. He didn’t seem to care, though, because his mouth opening in a low groan. Taking his chance, Dean thrust his tongue inside Cas’ mouth and he fucking _sucked_ at it. Their hips smashed together accidentally. Dean tried to pull pack, suddenly feeling nervous for some damn reason, but Cas had already arched back into it. And oh god... his hands had travelled all the way down Dean’s back and gripped his ass, holding their hips together.

They explored each other’s mouths frantically like it was the only time they’d have the chance. Dean swallowed the thought, and decided to concentrate on just how great Cas felt against him and how they should have been doing this for years. Cas knew what he was damn doing when he rolled his hips, causing friction that was delicious through their pants.

He hadn’t meant to, but Dean couldn’t help meeting Cas’ gaze every time they had to break for air. Which wasn’t actually that long, barely a second before they went back in again, already addicted. The sunglasses must have hit the floor at some point, because all he saw was blue. Their hands swapped positions as the minutes went on, Cas gripping onto Dean’s hair and Dean’s hands touching everywhere they would reach.

Almost subconsciously Dean pulled them away from the wall and they stumbled without the support. Neither was entirely willing to break apart. Dean navigated the Bunker to this best ability, which was hard when there was an ex-angel attached to him, determined to kill him apparently. Even when they _finally_ reached the right door, Cas pressed him up against it. Sam wouldn’t be back for the next day knowing him, so it wouldn’t matter, but still. Dean managed to grab the door handle behind him and they went tumbling in.

The attack was instant.

Dean’s thoughts started to wander a little, like “how did he learn this?”, but he stopped himself because he knew _exactly_ where. His lips were on Dean’s neck, ghosting their way down and across his collarbone until he bit down without warning, for the whole world to see. Perhaps Dean should have been ashamed of the needy moan that escaped him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Cas had turned into a wild animal, and Dean feared for his clothing. He heard a few buttons pop off from one of his layers and then within a few seconds his chest was completely exposed. Dean returned the favour as Cas began work on his pants, pulling the heavy jacket away and the layers underneath until they were pretty much equal.

Almost frowning against Cas’ lips, he noticed that his pants were not actually off, and Cas was running his hands across the top of them, with only a button undone. When the kiss was broken, he felt almost empty for a moment. Damn, we probably would have fallen if not for Cas’ practically bruising grip on his hips, as the ex-angel sunk to his goddamn knees without breaking freaking eye contact and mouthed at his jeans, up and down his thing. He was getting dangerously close to Dean’s crotch and his boner was getting damn uncomfortable. Right up until Cas kissed right there and put the zipper between his teeth.

All was well until “...ow.” He’d caught his lip on the zipper.

Dean came to three conclusions at the same time.

Number one: Castiel, former angel of the Lord, had been watching too much porn.

Number two: That was fricking hilarious and the tension had immediately shattered.

Number three: He needed to get those pants off. Immediately.

He pulled Cas back up again with a smile, pressing a sweet kiss, completely different to the others, to his hurt lips. He unzipped his own pants and pulled them off, along with his socks until it was just underwear. Cas followed suit, making it a quicker task. Slow seduction could come another time. Holy fuck. Dean had never seen him like this before, naked save for boxer briefs that were too tight (yet not tight enough) on his ass.

Whether Dean fell of his own accord or was pushed, he didn’t know, but his back was against his bed and Cas was straddling him, grinding mercilessly so it was a bitch of an effort to bite back his moans. He had no real reason too, but years of sharing rooms with Sam had hardwired it into his brain to be quiet.

Cas was kissing _everywhere_ and his dick was throbbing painfully as a result of the grinding, which he was rutting up into. Could he come just from this? Sure as hell felt like it. How far were they even gonna take this? Cas seemed to make that decision for him, wayward hands venturing under the elastic band. Dean arched up, letting Cas slide them off (doing a better job than with the jeans). His body was burning and his blood felt like fire.

A distinct ripping sound proved that Cas’ underwear wouldn’t survive the ordeal.

It was just them, then. Skin on skin. Dean wasn’t sure what had happened to him, because there was no way he’d let do this. He rut against him, completely in control of the situation. “Dean,” Cas rasped, and he realised that was the first real word they’d spoken. “Can I?”

He was asking goddamn permission. Fuck. “Mmmhmm,” Dean just about managed.

But oh freaking no, Cas didn’t come close to touching his neglected dick. Instead he found his hips suddenly pointing skyward and then he was incoherent. Cas’ wet tongue pressed firmly against his ass with delicious, tracing slowly. Still, the closest Cas went to his dick was a small swipe against his perineum. Cas was going to kill him, but what a glorious way to go. His tongue dipped inside him, cautious for the first time since the original kiss. He didn’t have the will to tell to Cas to stop, no way in hell. The sensation was damn right weird but intoxicating. Dean found himself trying to push into it. He really was going to let a dude fuck him. Cas was not just a dude, he reminded himself.

“Cas,” he murmured. “Want you to-“ he reached over to his bedside table and fumbled for lube. “Jus’ be caref-“

He knew it was coming, but Cas’ finger took him by surprise. They were back to animalistic apparently. He didn’t waste any time building up to it; he just slid it all the way in. There was no pain exactly, though Dean was new to the sensation, just a dull stretch that felt neither good nor bad. Not a bout of shame was left to be felt, and Dean spread his legs out of instinct. Two fingers. Dean winced and bit down on his lip, but he still couldn’t bring himself to tell Cas to slow down. The tip of Cas’ index finger _just_ scraped against that bundle of nerves and Dean cried out, finding himself trying to move with them. He wanted more.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Cas all but growled into his ear, kissing his lobe and down his chin in an attempt to distract Dean from the burn that came from scissoring. “The moment I laid a hand on you in Hell I was tainted. When I was given my mission, I assumed it would be _difficult_ to find one soul among millions, but yours called out like a beacon of all that was right. The hardest part was having to let go of it. I can no longer see your soul, but I would rather have you like this.” Shivers ran through Dean’s body as Cas placed a chaste kiss on his neck.

That had been the weirdest dirty talk ever, so Dean wasn’t sure why he groaned so desperately. “Go. Now. Cas-“ he demanded.

Thank God there was no time for teasing. Cas lubed up his dick and then there was the head, pushing gently against Dean’s hole. A string of curses fell from his lips. Never, except for the occasional passing thought, in his thirty something years had he been expecting to be into this. But holy shit he was. Cas entered him slowly, gasping and restraining himself with obvious effort. No, this was torturous. Dean had little leverage; all he could do was take it. _Finally_ Cas bottomed out but he was still.

They kept eye contact for so long it was almost painful. Dean’s legs naturally drifted up, wrapping right around Cas’ hips. He leant down and pressed a brief kiss to his lips before pulling almost completely out, then back again just as slowly as before. This was sweet fucking torture. Again and again.

_Harder. Faster. Deeper._

Apparently Cas had already fucked him to incoherence, because Dean found himself unable to produce proper English. He got the message, though, as Dean ground against him. Cas fisted at his hair, all the while mumbling something under his breath. Dean arched slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly Cas was pounding against _that spot_ from before and he found himself unable to produce any sound at all, ripples of pleasure rushing through his whole body. His dick was throbbing so bad it was painful.

His insides pulsed without warning and then Cas was gone, chanting his name like it was prayer. He could feel it as Cas rode out his orgasm, and he could never go back. As if coming out of a trance, Cas finally remembered Dean’s neglected dick and that was all it took, one touch of his fist to the head and Dean was spasming like he was made of pure electricity.

Even after Cas pulled out of him and rolled onto the space beside him, it took Dean a while to catch his breath. “Woah.” And suddenly Dean was more than a little pissed. They could have been doing that for years.

Cas sighed and shifted. “I’ll go have that shower now.”

“Right now?”

“It was only meant to be a brief visit.” He stood up, leaving the bed.

Just like that, Dean’s post-release high faded. “You don’t have to just leave like-“

“You told me a year ago, I couldn’t stay here. I said, Dean. I like the road.”

The idea of Cas going away again hit him hard. What the hell? He was turning into a sappy chick. “That was a year ago. I want you here, in the Bunker, with me.”

“Dean-“

“And,” he continued, “I’ll follow you if you don’t. I’m asking you to stay with me.”

Shyly, Cas nodded and fell back onto the bed. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they slept.


End file.
